


Lay Me Down

by FandomCraving



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, M/M, PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-27 20:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13888431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomCraving/pseuds/FandomCraving
Summary: When Bucky is woken up from Cryo freeze in Wakanda, it is evident there is only so much they will be capable of helping Bucky through. With his PTSD, and nightmares getting increasingly worse, Shuri and T'Challa call Steve, in hopes his presence will help heal a part of Bucky that Vibranium technology can't.(Potential mature content in later chapters.)





	1. These Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Lay Me Down - Sam Smith

_“Steve!” Bucky’s voice is hoarse from calling out for his best friend, eyes filled with dust as he painfully tries to blink it away. A distant boom comes from behind him, ground shaking as another bomb strikes. There is smoke, dirt and debris everywhere, as wreckage falls again. “Steve!” he calls again with still no reply. He attempts to walk, leg giving out among the rubble. He tries to catch himself as he falls, landing on his right arm. He looks down to find a deep gash in his left leg, blood pooling at his ankles. He attempts to stop the bleeding by reaching down, however nothing happens, sharp pain all of a sudden very prevalent in his left shoulder. He looks over, a bloody stump where his arm once was.  
  
_ _His stomach drops, “God no,” he repeats to himself, unable to force himself to look again. The air around him smells like blood, and burnt flesh. His head is foggy, and dizzy from blood loss.  
  
_ _“Bucky!” he hears Steve’s voice call back to him, finally, but his body refuses to move. “Bucky please!”  
  
_ _His voice is lost. Unable to move or speak as Steve begs for his  help.  
  
_ _The dust and smoke settle, and Bucky is finally able to see Steve. He’s small, why is he so small? A version of Steve he hasn’t seen in years. How did they end up here? Still unable to speak as Steve comes into focus more, face stained in his own blood. Bucky can see the extend of Steve’s wounds. Legs mangled? Missing? Torso burned, red and black, a large laceration down his face and neck making him nearly unrecognizable to even Bucky.  
  
_ _Panic sets in, deep in his chest, head spinning as he struggles to get to his best friend. His body feels like dead weight, like he’s being pulled down. His vision starts to darken, body rejecting his attempts to reach Steve. Unable to focus, vision going completely black, all that’s left is Steve’s voice yelling his name.  
  
_ __“Bucky….. Bucky.” the voice gets louder. “Sergeant Barnes, you are safe, please, wake up.”  
  
The voice sounds different. He no longers smells smoke or the scent of burnt flesh. A phantom of pain in his shoulder, much less than what it was. The air is cool, but he still can’t move. Heart racing, his eyes shoot open, and he makes eye contact with a man he currently does not recognize. Nothing makes sense right now, a cloud of confusion looming over him.  
  
“It’s okay.” The man’s holds his arms up in a sign of surrender. “You are alright.” the thick African accent snapping Bucky back to reality as he props himself up on his right arm.  
  
Bucky looks around the room, eyes settling on the young Wakanda princess at the end of the bed, eyes filled with concern and intent as she wipes blood off of her lip. “Did… did I?” the question hangs in the air for a moment. Realization floods over Bucky. “I’m so sorry.” he sits up fully, directing his apology first to Shuri. “Please forgive me, I’m so sorry.” his voice is weak and he looks at T’Challa before looking away, confusion gone, shame taking it’s place.  
  
“It is alright,” T’Challa says calmly.  
  
Bucky can feel his heart pounding, trying to come down from his adrenaline high. Panic slowly dying down, sweat tacking his hair to his forehead.  
  
“We will increase meditation to three times a day.” Shuri says, her voice unwavering and sure, offering Bucky comfort in her tone. “And maybe, if you’d like, we can try hypnotherapy for anxiety and relaxation.” she suggests.  
  
Bucky nods, “Thank you.” quietly slipping through his lips.  
  
“We will get this figured out.” she walks up to his bedside and places a soft hand on his shoulder.  
  
Bucky nods again, eyes fixed on his lap.  
  
“We will leave you now.” T’Challa says, eyes encouraging Shuri to follow.  
  
“I am close by if needed.” Shuri reasurres the soldier.  
  
Bucky looks up and smiles weakly at her before they leave, room now empty and quiet.  
  
Embarrassment washes over him again once they are gone, tears from the panic of his dream, and frustration spilling over in a silent cry. He curls up, face buried into the pillow as he tries to replace the image of Steves mangled body with something real.  
  
It’s been too long since he’s seen Steve and the dreams are too real. Anytime his mind wanders to his best friend, he’s greeted with an image from his sleep as if it were a memory. They’re not always about Steve, but lately they’re the majority.  
  
  
Steve dying, being killed, captured by Hydra and forced to endure the same tortures Bucky did. Tony relentlessly killing Steve to get to Bucky. Bucky being helpless and unable to save his best friend.  
  
When he doesn’t dream of Steve, it’s Hydra, the chair, the pain, the innocent people.  
  
He won’t sleep for the rest of the night in fear of facing these demons again, instead he’ll think of the 40’s, pretending he’s back in that small Brooklyn apartment, walking in from work, Sinatra on the radio, Steve seated on the countertop waiting to greet him. He loses himself in this fantasy until dawn.

\--

“He needs Steve.” Shuri speaks when they are finally far enough down the hall not to be overheard. “He has improved on his daily functions, but his nightmares are getting worse.  
  
“Are you alright?” T’Challa reaches towards Shuri’s bruising lip.  
  
“I am fine, did you hear me?” concern evident in her voice.  
  
“Yes.” His voice is low, contemplating. “You have worked with him the most.I trust your judgement. I will call Steve now.” T’Challa assures her. “Now go back to bed.” He places a kind hand on her shoulder, before walking off, towards his study.


	2. Embrace

Steve walks in from his morning run. He typically goes out before dawn, trying to avoid public eye, sun just now rising as he places his apartment keys on the table beside the door. He grabs a water from the fridge when his phone rings. T’Challa’s name comes up on the screen, heart jumping immediately in anticipation. T’Challa only ever calls about updates on Bucky’s current state. The last Steve had heard from T’Challa was to tell Steve that they had successfully woken Bucky up and he was doing well. He had kept his distance, unsure if, after everything that’s happened, Bucky even wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t reached out yet, so Steve took this as a sign he wasn’t ready, for whatever reason.

 

“Hello?” Steve answers the call.

 

T’Challa updates Steve on the recent turn of events Bucky has been experiencing, a sinking feeling engulfing the blondes chest like a wave.   
  
“We have a New York City out reach base,” T’Challa explains. “If you want to go there, I will alert the staff, they can use their ship to bring you here quickly.”   
  
“Thank you T’Challa. I’ll get some things together and be there shortly.”   
  
“They will be waiting.” The Wakanda king says before they said their goodbyes and hung up.   
  
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, heart heavy for his best friend, nerves biting their way through his chest. Thoughts of doubt running through his head, fear of not being able to help Bucky, like Shuri and T’Challa expect him to. He quickly pulls himself together, planning to shower, pack a bag, and head out as soon as possible.   
  
\--   
  
Bucky spent most of the morning just trying to stay awake, and Shuri was pretty sure he briefly fell asleep during their earlier meditations.   
  
When they aren’t working on Bucky’s mental health, he spends most of his time insisting on helping Shuri in her lab. He doesn’t like to be alone, and Shuri typically doesn’t let him be. She does her best to find him some easy busy work for him to help with. When he first woke up, she was still working on a new prosthetic for him, she asked for his opinion on design and other functions. Bucky’s first question was if it was possible to make him be able to feel with it. As of right now all her time has gone into trying to create a synthetic ability to register touch, but most importantly, to do so, without creating anything that cross wires with pain. Their last test run for it was successful, and the look on Bucky’s face when she ran her hand over his metal one, was priceless. He explained it as not feeling normal, and it’s a different sense. Certain touches are a bit too much, and they’re working out the sensitivity bugs, but Bucky couldn’t be happier with the result.   
  
Shuri often rattles off information and technical talk that Bucky doesn’t understand, but he pretends that he does. He really just likes watching her work in her element.   
  
“How do you feel about Steve coming? Are you excited?” She asks him as she welds a small metal piece to another. He’s not quite sure what she’s working on today, since she has so many projects laying around, but it looks interesting.   
  
“I’m nervous.” he tells her honestly.   
  
“What about? I bet he’s excited to see you.” She smiles at him, hoping to ease his nerves.   
  
“I don’t really know. He and I didn’t exactly get much time to catch up before. It was a lot of fighting, a lot of running. He’s going to have questions about everything, including what’s been going on lately, and I just don’t know if I want to relive it all right now.” Bucky’s voice is calm. He doesn’t seem excessively worried about his upcoming encounter with Steve, but Shuri assumes he’s learned how to internalize his anxieties through the years.   
  
“I think if you tell him this, he will respect that.”   
  
“Yeah, probably. A part of me wants to tell him everything. The other part wants to just enjoy his company and not bother him with it all.” Bucky shrugs, spinning in his chair.   
  
“You’ll have time to do both.” Shuri watches Bucky. He looks young today, so much different than last night. His episodes were really bad the first week. He’d have them in the middle of the day, out of nowhere, just panic, and confusion. After a few days of spiritual balancing, and getting him on a meditation routine, things started to settle down, except for his nightmares. Regardless, today he looks good, despite the lack of sleep. If Shuri wasn’t mistaken, there was color in his cheeks that hasn’t been there before.   
  
\--   
  
The flight was long, but not nearly as long as commercial flights would have been. Wakanda ships are probably the fastest aircraft Steve has ever seen. It’s impressive really, it was too bad he wasn’t able to appreciate it more. His mind was just not with him at the moment, it was already in Wakanda with Bucky.   
  
By the time Steve arrived in Wakanda it was only noon, even though his body was saying it was 5:00 in the evening, due to the time difference. T’Challa was there to greet him as he de-boarded, and they talked on their way in about what to expect.   
  
“He’s exhausted, and easily startled sometimes.” T’Challa explains.   
  
Steve listens and nods as T’Challa goes over anything he may not have mentioned over the phone.   
  
T’Challa had sent Shuri a text when Steve got off the plane letting her know   
  
\--

  
“Come on, let’s go see the other defrosted white man.” She says, hopping out of her chair.  
  
Bucky laughed at Shuri’s comment, following quickly behind her as they made their way to the sitting room at the front of the palace.  
  
Steve and T’Challa stop talking when Bucky and Shuri round the corner. Bucky’s feet stop working immediately, and Shuri looks back at him.   
  
“Come on.” She whispers, trying not to draw too much attention to his abrupt cease in movement.   
  
“Hey,” Steve directs his greeting towards Bucky, smile spreading across his face.   
  
Bucky drops his head and smiles, as he starts walking towards Steve again. “Hi.” He replies, eyes now fixed on Steve.   
  
Steve walked forward too, closing the remaining gap between them, embracing him in a well received hug.   
  
Bucky felt as if he was going to melt. He hadn’t realized just how deprived of physical affection he had been until he found himself surrounded by the safe security of Steve’s arms. Steve pat him on the back, pulling away far too soon in Bucky’s opinion, but he would take what he could get right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a slow start to this fic. I'm learning how to do details without being boring.  
> The next chapter should be better!


	3. I Want to Listen

T’Challa and Shuri didn’t stick around. After Steve got to say hi to Shuri, T’Challa requested her help elsewhere, though Bucky knew they had nothing important to get to, he was just letting them be alone, and Bucky was thankful to have time with Steve. Even though he had been nervous before, that all quickly went away once they finally got talking. Steve asked how Bucky was settling into Wakanda, and he told Bucky how things are going for him. It was small talk really, but it was refreshing.   
  
They’re both sitting on the couch. Bucky’s legs are spread out across the length of it, leaning against the arm rest, right arm up on the back of the couch, hand resting on the back of his neck.   
  
Steve nearly mirroring Bucky, their legs resting against each others as they talk.   
  
“Shuri and I get along really well. She’s been teaching me ‘pop culture’.” Bucky throws up air quotes.   
  
“Maybe you can teach me, because Nat still makes fun of me for my lack of understanding.” Steve smiles.   
  
“I personally like memes the best.” Bucky smiles.   
  
“Yeah, I have no idea what that is.” The blonde laughs.   
  
The casual conversation was nice, but Bucky knew it wasn’t going to last for long, so he wasn’t surprised when the conversation turned serious.   
  
“Buck,” Steve breathes.   
  
It was the way that Steve said his name that made Bucky go cold. He knew it wasn’t rational response, but he has no control over this anxiety anymore.   
  
“I’m not going to make you talk about it, any of it,” Steve continues, “but If you want to talk, I want to listen.” he offers, expression soft.   
  
Bucky hesitates for a moment before the words seem to form themselves. He doesn’t remember deciding to say it. “I want to.”   
  
It caught Steve off guard. If he knew anything about Bucky is was that he didn’t like talking about serious problems, at least not when it came to himself. When they were growing up, Steve had so many health issues, Bucky was always the one looking out for him, and taking care of him. Anytime Steve would ask Bucky about himself the answer was always “I’m good, but what about you?” He almost always flipped the conversation to his best friend. Often times, Steve wondered if Bucky even knew how to open up to people.   
  
Bucky didn’t even give him a chance to respond, again not even thinking, just talking. Not thinking was easier for him right now. “I dream about you.”   
  
Steve doesn’t speak, instead, he waits for Bucky to continue.   
  
“Last night was bad. You were dying and I couldn’t reach you.” he quickly looks away from Steve, all of a sudden feeling very vulnerable. “When I wake up, sometimes I don’t remember where I am, or who I am. All I remember is you and I can’t breathe until I remember it didn’t actually happen. Then everything comes back.” He finally looks back up, making eye contact again.   
  
Steve’s eyes are warm, but he looks concerned. “Do you feel like the things they are doing with you to help, are working at all?” he asks. Steve was already filled in on their healing measures, but wanted to know how Bucky felt about the process.   
  
“A bit, but not with the dreams. I have no control over my mind when I’m sleeping. Meditation helps me focus on reality. It helped me learn how to pull my mind back, if that makes any sense, but when I’m sleeping I have no way of making the conscious decision to do that. Everything that I’m warding off during the day just spills into my dreams. I don’t even want to sleep anymore.” Exhaustion slipping into his words.   
  
“So you dream about me a lot?” Steve asks, heart sinking at the thought of being the cause of all this stress.   
  
Embarrassment warms Bucky’s cheeks. “Yeah, lately anyway.” he immediately senses Steve’s guilt. “But maybe it’s just because I haven’t seen you in awhile.” Bucky tries to comfort Steve with the possibility of his presence helping it current situation.   
  
“You know you could’ve called me.” Steve says with a small smile.   
  
“I know, but…” Bucky pauses, looking to choose his words carefully. “I don’t think I was ready to talk about it, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it from you. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to you.”   
  
“I understand.” And he really did. Steve has always been good that way, never taking anything too personally when it wasn’t. “Lack of sleep is starting to age you though.” Steve jokes, hoping to lighten the mood “You’re starting to look your age, old man.”   
  
Bucky laughs, “I still think I wear it better.” he retorts, eyes lighting up again.   
  
“So, want to show me around a bit?” Steve asks.   
  
“Yeah, sure. Lets go see if Shuri is back in her lab. It’s overwhelming there, but my favorite place.” Bucky smiles as he swings his feet over the couch and stands up, Steve following behind.   
  
\--   
  
The day felt like a huge breath of fresh air for Bucky, but there was still the unsettling dread of nightfall. When the evening rolled around he began contemplated trying to stay awake tonight. They placed Steve in the room across the hall, which should have been comforting, but his anxiety kept his head reeling, afraid that his nightmares will keep them both awake.   
  
They said their goodnights, even though Bucky was sure this probably wasn’t the last he was going to see Steve before the morning. He could already feel his body weighing him down from fatigue. It didn’t take long for Bucky to fall asleep, and his mind immediately began to slip into nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I don't know about you guys but I like this chapter better. More interactions between the two. Sorry my chapters are so short. I'm writing these at work and I get eager to post!
> 
> SOME STUCKY CUDDLES COMING SOOOOON


	4. One More Thing

_Bucky is standing across a bridgeway, Steve Rogers about 100 feet from him. Close enough to make out his distressed expression. His brows are knit together with confusion._

_“Bucky?” Steve’s voice echoes in his ears. Bucky has a mission, but everything in his mind is screaming Steve’s name. He advances towards his best friend, unable to control his body._

_Bucky’s first punch impacting with the shield._

_“Buck, you know me!” Steve blocked another hit, stumbling backwards._

_Bucky’s next hit lands sharp in Steve’s ribs, knocking the air out of his best friends lungs, and Bucky doesn’t stop, he can’t._

_“Please,” Steve begs Bucky, and all Bucky can think of is how much he wants to pick him up off the ground and hold him, apologize, fix all Steve’s problem just like he would back in the 30’s and 40’s._

_Steve is on the ground at this point, Bucky looming over him, he crouches down, metal hand wrapping around Steve’s throat. Steve’s face is bruised and bloody, eyes full of confusion._

_He can hear Natasha’s voice behind him, they’re yelling for Steve. Bucky doesn’t look back, he keeps his focus on Steve, his best friend, now his mission._

_“It’s okay.” Steve’s voice breaks through Bucky’s grip around his neck. “It’s okay.” He repeats, closing his eyes._

_Bucky tightens his grip, cutting off the air from Steve’s lungs completely. Steve falls limp, neck bruised a red and purple that turned Bucky’s stomach. His mission was complete. He gets up, and begins to walk away, because it’s what he’s supposed to do, yet certainly not what he wants._

_His chest hurts, an ache he can feel like a wave through his body. A pain he didn’t even know was possible to feel._

_“It’s okay.” He hears Steve’s voice again._

_—-_

“Everything’s fine.” Bucky’s no longer on the bridge, as reality begins to fade back as he wakes up, heart pounding as his eyes snap open.

“Hey Buck, you’re alright.” Steve’s voice is coming from his right, turning to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, hand placed on the blankets next to Bucky, but not touching him.

“Steve,” His voice breaks, obviously upset, still feeling the remaining emotions from the death he witnessed moments ago in his nightmare. Steve’s murder, and at his own hand, that was a new one.

“You alright?” It was a question this time. Steve had never seen Bucky so completely disheveled.

Bucky didn’t even answer, not verbally, instead he sat up, making eye contact with Steve briefly before leaning into him, wrapping his arm around his best friend, and burying his face in Steve’s neck.

It was dark, so he couldn’t have been sure, but Steve could have sworn he had seen tears in Bucky’s eyes before he was being embraced. It was only seconds before there was confirmation. Steve could feel Bucky’s body shake with small sobs against him, and Steve began rubbing small circles into his back, trying to soothe whatever emotions Bucky was experiencing.

They stayed like this for awhile, and honestly Steve would have been okay staying like this all night. He waited for Bucky’s breathing to even out before speaking again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bucky shook his head lightly against Steve. “No.” He whispered, though is voice sounded steady, which Steve took as a good sign. He pulls away from Steve, arm dropping to his lap with his eyes.

“Okay. Do you think you’ll be able to get to sleep again?” Steve asks, though he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

“Probably not.” He looks up at Steve, hair shielding him from full eye contact.

“What if I stay?” Steve remembers when they were roommates back in the 40’s, anytime Steve would be up sick, Bucky would lay beside him at night. For some reason it always made Steve feel better enough to fall asleep. This wasn’t exactly the same, but it was the only thing Steve could think of offering. He doesn’t like feeling so helpless when Bucky is obviously struggling.

Bucky brushed the hair out of his eyes. They were glossy and red, but still beautiful.

“Would that help do you think?” Steve adds.

Bucky thinks about it for a moment, not wanting to seem weak, but willing to try anything at this point. “Maybe.” His voice has a soft inflection of optimism.

Steve places his hand on Bucky’s knee, squeezing it lightly as he smiles at him before getting up to walk to the other side of the bed. He pulls back the covers and slides into the warmth of the blankets, propping himself up on his side to look at Bucky, who has now laid back down. “I’m here if you need me.” He says quietly, hoping to reassure Bucky that it’s okay to wake him up or ask for something.

Bucky’s eyes are closed, and he nods. He doesn’t plan on sleeping, but his usual daydreams about the 40’s doesn’t compare to having Steve laying next to him again.

Steve lays down on his back, falling asleep within the next 15 minutes.

Bucky turns to look at his best friend. Blonde hair longer than it was before. The beard was new, and Steve looks like he’s aged a little. Probably from stress, yet he looks good. His features soft from exhaustion, leaving only faded lines where his brows were knit together with worry earlier. He’s never calmed down from a nightmare so quickly, there is just something about having Steve there to pull him back to reality that helps. Bucky didn’t expect to sleep again. Usually after a nightmare, his mind will refuse to shut off again, but he found himself slowly falling back into unconsciousness, eyes fluttering shut again.

—-

_It’s dark and cold, and he can hear someone screaming. It takes a moment before he realizes it’s his own voice echoing in his ears that he hears. Sharp pain pulsing through his head, down his neck and shoulders, eyes burning with tears and unable to move. He opens his eyes, and is met with an unwelcoming sight. Concrete walls threatening to close in on him as he’s strapped to the Hydra chair. His eyes screw shut again from the pain, teeth clench around the mouth piece that had been forced into his mouth. Everything hurts, but the most concerning part, is the inability to remember. Who is he? Why is he here? Who are these people? What is going on? He screams again, voice going hoarse, body trembling with every new wave of shock._

—-

Bucky’s eyes open quickly, the feeling of someone’s hand on his chest brings him back quickly, he grabs it, out of instinct.

“Woah.” Steve’s voice is calm and soft.

“Sorry.” Was all the first thing Bucky knew to say. He looked over at the clock on the nightstand. It’s 3:18, he had been asleep for just a little over an hour and already he’s waking the two of them with his panics again. He can feel his eyes burning with tears for the second time tonight, mainly out of frustration. He realizes he can’t keep doing this to Steve, It won’t be fair, or worth keeping them both up and exhausted.

“It’s okay.” Steve says with a weak smile, his eyes are tired but he seems to be very aware and alert. “You’re alright.” He assures Bucky, but for some reason, those words left Bucky feeling empty.

The tears that burned behind his eyes spilled over, and he covers his face with his hand. “No, I’m not.” He says quietly between sobs.

Steve is close, leaning in with concern, as Bucky’s sobs become more violent. He watches as his best friend starts to come undone in front of him. He’s never seen Bucky so completely vulnerable and to Steve, it’s a terrifying feeling, not knowing what to do help. “Hey,” Steve tries to pull Bucky back from his hysterics. He touches his hand and pulls it down, away from his face. “Come here.” He places his hand under Bucky’s elbow and pulls his best friend towards his body.

Bucky complies, rolling over so his arm is draped over Steve, finding the fabric at his side and instinctively grabbing it in his fist. He’s settled perfectly under Steves right arm, head resting between his shoulder and chin.

Steve’s arms are wrapped tightly around Bucky, his left hand resting on the back of his neck, fingers laced in his hair. “It’s okay, not to be okay, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything instead, he closes his eyes and focuses on Steve’s breathing. He can hear his friends heart beat, steadier and slower than his own. He can feel Steve’s hand move slightly against the nape of his neck, fingers tracing through his long hair.

Steve notices Bucky’s breathing has slowed down, synced with his own, and his hand has relaxed from it’s previously forceful grip on his T-Shirt. Steve gets lost in his thoughts, wondering what these past few weeks must have been like for Bucky when he would wake up, and have no one here. A small pang of guilt washes over Steve like cold water. He automatically tightens his grip around Bucky’s waist. Bucky, his best friend, the only person who has consistently been there his entire life. Bucky used to take care of him, but in a way that never made Steve feel helpless. Bucky knew Steve could do things on his own, so he wasn’t over protective, and when Steve needed help, Bucky never made him feel weak for it. They grew up like this, yet where was Steve? Steve guilt began the day he lost Bucky, and ever since, there’s always been one more thing. He knows Bucky doesn’t blame him for anything, but he can’t help but feel like he failed him. Not being able to save him from the fall, not knowing he was alive while he was tortured and used by Hydra, and here they were again, with one more thing Steve failed to save Bucky from.

Steve pulled himself out of his head, listening for any remaining signs of distress coming from Bucky. His body was completely limp, hand now loosely at Steve’s side, his right leg tangled with Steve’s, breathing had completely evened out into soft puffs against Steve’s neck. Steve wasn’t sure if Bucky was really asleep, especially so quickly, however he wasn’t going to risk waking him up. Instead, Steve stayed exactly where he was, arms wrapped around his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, as promised, some Stucky cuddles. I’m sorry it took so long! I lost my motivation for a little bit there, but my BFF came over and I was spewing all my Stucky feelings and it all came back to me. Hope you guys like it!


	5. Maybe, Just Maybe

When Bucky wakes up the first thing he notices is the light streaming in from the large windows. He squints, trying to block out the sudden light. The second thing he notices is the man in his bed, recalling the memories of last night. He shifts slightly to look up at Steve, who is obviously awake, quietly laying with Bucky in the same position he had fallen asleep in.

“Good morning.” Steve says quietly.

“Mmorning” Bucky hums, embarrassment flushing his cheeks as he becomes increasingly aware of how intimate the contact is between the two. He shifts slightly, concerned that Steve might be uncomfortable. “Have- have we been this way all night?” He asks.

“Yes,” Steve smiles, and Bucky thinks he almost looks proud of himself.

“What time is it?” Bucky shifts again, untangling his leg from Steve’s.

“10:30,” Steve informs him.

“What?” He asks in disbelief, turning over completely, freeing himself from Steve’s arms to look at the clock himself, which only confirmed what he was told. Bucky instantly regrets leaving the comfort of Steve’s arms, an empty feeling in his gut that he can’t quite wrap his head around.

“Did you sleep okay?” Steve asks, now propping himself up, and leaning against the headboard.

“Yeah…” Bucky pauses for a moment and sits up, looking at Steve. “I haven’t slept for more than three hours at a time since I woke up from Cryo freeze.” He then looks down at his hand.

“I’m glad you got some rest.” Steve stretches and pulls the covers off of himself, swinging his legs over the other side of the bed to get up.

“Did you sleep?” The brunette questions.

“I fell asleep shortly after you did.” He says, walking around the end of the bed, and back around towards Bucky, stopping a few paces away. “I’m going to get a shower and get ready for the day.” He smiles softly at Bucky.

“Okay.” He smiles back as he watches Steve leave, closing the door behind himself, left with that empty feeling again in his stomach. He can still feel the heat in his cheeks, which grows hotter as new embarrassment floods his body. Even before, back in the 40’s, when Steve was sick, Bucky never held Steve the way Steve held him last night. He had always wanted to, but never allowed himself to act on it, afraid Steve would reject his comfort. It was the 40’s after all, and that sort of thing was considered taboo.

Bucky pulls the blankets off of his legs, sitting now on the edge of the bed. He leans forward to rest his elbow on his knee, hair falling into his face, creating a barrier around him. He feels good despite the embarrassment. He slept far more last night, than he has probably in the last three days altogether, which is something Bucky was starting to think was impossible.

Bucky got up, assuming it was probably a good idea to get ready for the day as well, making his way over to the beautiful attached bathroom across the room. Even though the last thing he wanted to do right now was wash away the scent and warmth of Steve Rogers, he stripped down from his clothes and turned the hot water on in the shower.

—-

Steve’s heart was pounding, hoping that Bucky hadn’t noticed his nervousness this morning. Last night was different. He was comforting Bucky, and not once second guessed what he was doing, but this morning felt like more than that. Waking up to still have him in his arms was something Steve thought he’d never get the chance to experience. He wasn’t even sure if he knew he wanted it until now. He could feel his heart nearly in his throat as his clothes dropped to the floor, hot steam coming from the shower. He tests the water with his hands and quickly runs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back with the moisture.

He looks over at the mirror, he’s tired from the time difference, and emotionally drained. He’s been anxious lately, more so than usual. Between trying to stay off of the government’s radar, as well as out of the eyes of the general public, he has felt like he was drowning. Being in Wakanda now is nice, because he at least can get away, where he can have social interactions without fear of being arrested for it. Being considered a war criminal was socially isolating, even though Natasha would sometimes meet him at a small coffee shop in the mornings, or, when Sam felt like getting up early, he would join Steve for a run before the sun was completely up. This rarely happened though, and Steve had begun to feel lonely these past few weeks. Although the anxiety and emotional toll of being alone has faded for now, but he’s being met with new anxieties related to Bucky, some of which he isn’t even completely aware of the cause. Not having control over his anxieties, gives Steve anxiety, and this endlessly frustrates him.

He steps into the shower, hot water rolling down his back. He relaxes into the stream, letting the water cascade over his head and face, trying to wash away all the emotions he was met with this morning. He needs to put his feelings on the back burner for now, for Bucky’s sake. Bucky needs to be his first priority.

—-  
“Shuri, no!” Steve hears Bucky’s laugh coming from down the hall once he leaves his room.

Steve spent more time in the shower than he expected to, but thankfully it helped him relax a bit for now. It was nice to hear Bucky laugh. Steve hears Shuri speak before rounding the corner.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say.” She snickers.

Steve turns the corner, to see Bucky smiling, lounging on the couch they had talked on last night, Shuri leaning over the back of the sofa.

“Speaking of!” Shuri announces Steve’s presence. “Good morning defrosted Caucasian number two!” She says enthusiastically.

Steve laughs at the comment, “Good morning.” He smiles at her.

“What is on the agenda today, boys?” She looks at Bucky, and then back up at Steve.

“I don’t really know.” Bucky says looking over at Steve.

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a guest.” Steve puts his hands up. He notices how different Bucky looks this morning compared to last night. He seems like two completely different people. He remember T’Challa telling him how Bucky seems to be managing pretty well during the day time. Hopefully even better now that he’s gotten some sleep. He almost seems to be glowing today, his hair still wet from the shower he took earlier, wearing a short sleeve robe like tunic similar to yesterday’s, that showcases his new arm. It’s lined with gold accents which Steve thinks is very well suited for Bucky.

“I think I want to show you the library this afternoon.” Bucky decides. “It’s probably not a whole day event, but it’s pretty big. I think you’ll appreciate it.” He says, knowing how much Steve used to read back in the day.

“Sounds great.” He walks over to the couch, sitting down at Bucky’s feet.  
—-  
The rest of the morning was spent joking around with Shuri over brunch, and discussing the wild events of Ultron, bringing Bucky up to date on the things that have happened. Bucky insisted that he didn’t need morning meditation today, however Shuri wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Steve wasn’t going to disagree with the princess. After that, Steve met back up with Bucky to check out the library.

The afternoon was relaxing. Steve browsed the large oak shelves for something that caught his eye, and ended up with three books in his lap for a couple of hours. Bucky, having already spent hours here previously, mostly pretended to read while he watched Steve become engrossed in the literature. The library was bright, glistening with sunlight that came in through the large windows. T’Challa came to visit them in the library after Shuri relaid to him how excited she was that Bucky had slept last night. T’Challa didn’t doubt she had been right from the beginning, so it didn’t come as a shock to him to learn that last night was a better night for Bucky, however he wanted to check in anyway.

It wasn’t until after dinner that Bucky finally attemps his second meditation for the day, but he can’t seem to focus. He keeps getting distracted by the anxiety pooling in his stomach Mind swimming with ‘what ifs’ about tonight.  
What if he can’t sleep tonight?  
What if It was a one time thing?  
What if he keeps them both up?  
What if Steve doesn’t want to lay with him again?  
What if he doesn’t want to hold him?  
That last one caused his heart to sink.  
“Fuck.” He whispers to himself.

“Language.” He hears Steve’s voice come from behind him.

Bucky was settled on the floor at the end of his bed, legs criss crossed in front of him, hands placed in his lap. He puts his left hand behind him to lean backwards, looking at Steve who was standing in the doorway. “Oh, hi.” He says innocently.

“What’s wrong?” Steve inquires, taking a seat on the floor with Bucky.

“I can’t focus.” Bucky says, leaning forward, elbows resting on his legs.

“Any particular reason?”

Bucky pauses, and sighs deeply. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Though serious, he laughs softly, and shrugs, eyes nervously searching for something else to focus on.

“You seemed okay last night after our first attempt. I think we may have found something that works.” Steve says optimistically.

Bucky looks up. He shouldn’t be surprised that Steve would offer the same thing they had done before, but of course he had talked himself into a panic. “Yeah, maybe.” Bucky says with less optimism.

“Is that alright?” Steve’s eyes look almost hurt by the lack of faith Bucky seemed to have.

“Yeah it’s fine, but, are you sure you’re okay with this?” The brunette asks weakly.

“Of course I am.” Steve assures him.

“You couldn’t have been comfortable laying like that all night.”

“I was fine, were you uncomfortable?”

“No, I was good.” Bucky pauses again, trying to figure out how to say what he’s thinking. “But you know, if you’re uncomfortable, by any sense of the word, you don’t have t-“

“Buck,” Steve cut him off before he could finish. “You realize I was the one who initiated that last night, right?” His eyebrows knit together with concern.

Bucky just stares at Steve for a moment, not sure exactly how to respond. Of course he knows that, but he doesn’t want Steve to feel obligated to do it again.

“I’m not uncomfortable around you.” Steve continues when he realizes Bucky isn’t going to reply. “And in all honesty, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to help you.”

A small smile pulls at Bucky’s lips. “I just want you to know you don’t have to do anything. Having you here is good enough.”

Steve smiles too, “I know I don’t have to, and if I was uncomfortable I wouldn’t, but having me here wasn’t enough, last night was proof of that, and that’s okay. What works, works, and If that’s what you need, and you’re alright with it, then we will do it again.” Steve assures him.

“Thank you.” Bucky says honestly.

“Anytime, Buck.” Steve stands up, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Try to finish meditating, I have to talk to T’Challa.” Steve tells him.

Bucky just nods contently and watches Steve leave the room. He doesn’t like when Steve goes off to talk to T’Challa because he knows they’re talking about him for the majority of it. He understands, and knows it’s probably just about how he’s been doing, but he doesn’t like not knowing what’s being said about him. He puts that to the back of his head for now though. He just wants to get through his meditation so he can say he did it and maybe, just maybe sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a quick update. Less than 24 hours! I feel like I compromised on content quality a little bit this time around, so I’m sorry for that. I’m writing on my iPad while at work between tasks so I am also sorry for any grammatical, punctuation, spelling, or other errors.


	6. “That’s It”

When Steve returns to the room, Bucky is already laying down, his metal arm placed on the dresser top across the room. The lights are dim, leaving just enough light in the room for Steve to see his way to the bed. Bucky’s eyes are closed, but Steve can tell by the way his eyebrows are knit together, he’s not asleep, at least not yet. Steve memorizes the room before flicking the light off completely and making his way around to the other side of the bed. He notices Bucky shift at the acknowledgment of his presence.

“Hey.” Bucky whispers, voice sleepy and low.

“Hi.” Steve whispers in reply as he pulls the covers back off the bed, sliding into what is now being considered his side.

“Did you have fun talking about me?” Bucky jokes softly, turning over to face Steve.

“You know I’ve always been one to enjoy a bit of gossip.” He jokes back, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at Bucky.

Bucky’s hair laid perfectly around his face, eyes looking up at Steve. He looked tired but soft around the edges compared to before. His smile was weak but genuine.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep.” Steve points out.

“I feel like it.” He agrees, running his fingers through his hair briefly.

“What do you need from me right now?” Steve asks, not wanting to make any assumptions about what Bucky wants right now.

Bucky pauses, a small unsure silence, between the two, lingers for a few seconds. “I’m not really sure.”

Steve shifts so he’s now laying on his back, getting comfortable before stilling. “Come here then.” Steve says, holding his arm out as an invitation.

Bucky responds immediately by rolling over and finding his place comfortably against Steve like they were last night. Bucky didn’t really have a chance to relax in Steve’s arms last night, while he was so upset. His mind was racing too much and as soon as he calmed down he fell asleep, in fact, that even was a bit of a blur due to emotions. Tonight is different though. Bucky can fully appreciate how well they fit together, bodies relaxing into each other. Bucky felt his face flush again, tilting his head downward so his hair covers his face slightly, not that Steve can see him anyway, but it makes him feel safer.

Steve’s arms are both around Bucky’s torso this time, his left resting on the curve of Bucky’s waist, and the other around his upper back and shoulders. Steve can feel Bucky melt into him, becoming dead weight the more relaxed he becomes. It feels nice, at least Steve thinks so. Steve becomes incredibly aware of how close their hips are, Bucky completely flush against his side, which causes Steves stomach to flip slightly. The feeling of excitement runs through his veins for a moment causing his heart rate to spike. Steve knows, with the way Bucky’s head is resting on his chest, he will have noticed, which only makes Steve anxious. He’s silently cursing himself and his inappropriate timing, while he attempts to even out his breathing.

“Are you okay?” Bucky whispers.

Steve shifts slightly, “Yes, are you?” Steve says, voice coming out a lot steadier than he feels at the moment. Praying that was enough to convince him to drop the topic.

“You sound like you’re having tachycardia.” Bucky’s words are laced with concern.

“I am okay.” Steve smiles. Even still, after all these years, Bucky worries about Steve.

Bucky shifts, unable to prop himself up due to the lack of his arm, he leans into Steve’s body more, using his right arm to rest against Steve’s chest so he’s looking at him. He pretty much rolled over onto Steve, pressing their hips together from the front, which wasn’t doing the blonde any favors right now.

Steve holds Bucky tightly so he has support on his left side. “What?” Steve says as innocently as possible.

“You’re a bad liar.” Bucky says, giving him a smirk.

“Oh, really?” Was all Steve could come up with.

“Yes, really. You’re also bad a deflecting.” Bucky points out.

“Oh just go to sleep.” Steve rolls his eyes, taking away the support he was offering on Bucky’s left side, causing him to slip back to where he had been laying.

“Jeez, so touchy.” Bucky chuckles, as he settles back into Steve’s side, head on his chest again. There’s a bit of silence before Bucky speaks again. “But, you’re really okay right?”

“Yes, you’re just damn heavy.” Steve jokes at him.

“Oh, shut up.” Bucky whispers, a small smile pulling at his lips. Bucky knew Steve was alright, even though he wasn’t telling him what had his heart rate up so high, Bucky had his own guesses. Normally he wouldn’t have pushed further than the first question, but he wanted to see what Steve had to say.

“What happened to you being tired?” Steve says with amusement.

“Well if I didn’t have your heart drumming in my ear, maybe I’d be able to fall asleep.” The brunette retorts effortlessly.

“That’s it.” Steve’s voice low and playfully fed up. He pushes Bucky off of him, onto his back.

“Aye,” Bucky says in a bit of shock, but still smiling.

Steve moves over, creating a bit of space between them and props himself up on one arm. He grabs Bucky’s waist with his free hand, pulling him over to him so they’re both in the middle of the bed again. “Turn over.” Steve demands with fake annoyance.

“Yes Captain.” He says sarcastically, laughing at the sharp glance the comment earned him. Bucky turns over, facing away from Steve, towards the wall. “So, why am I-” Bucky stops when he feels Steve’s arm drape over his waist, hand resting against Bucky’s lower chest. Steve presses his chest against the curve of Bucky’s back, legs bending to fit into his. There’s not a single part of Bucky’s back that wasn’t being completely covered by Steve. He could feel the blondes hips pressed against his ass and it made him blush feverishly.

“Problem solved.” Steve says, relaxing against Bucky, his face inches from the nape of his best friends neck. “Now go to sleep.” Steve demands in a more serious tone.

“Okay, okay.” Bucky sighs, smirking to himself. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight” Steve breathes against his ear, sending a chill down Bucky’s spine.

Bucky wonders if Steve has any idea how impossible he’s just made sleep seem.

Steve wonders why he just put himself in the absolute worst position to hide even the slightest arousal in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What even is this fic? I have no idea what I’m doing hahah.. ha.. ha... ah fuck. Whatever. Here you go :p Enjoy.


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